Family Emergency
by aprilhope
Summary: Set early S3, while B and J are broken up, Brian runs into a sickly other Taylor. A little angsty, mostly funny.


Family Emergency  
by AHS

All Brian had wanted to do was buy some fucking condoms.

He was running low, because he was fucking more tricks than ever before. And he was going to keep fucking them until they stopped wearing Justin's face, so he was definitely going to need more condoms.

But the universe was apparently feeling comical that day.

He'd just grabbed a quick lunch at the diner and had a few minutes to spare before heading back to the office. He hadn't gotten more than ten feet inside the drugstore when a familiar blond figure hurried past him and out the door, not even noticing his presence.

Not _that _blond, but almost as good a punchline on the universe's part. Her usual elegant carriage and sure steps replaced with a huddled, weak shuffle.

"Jennifer!"

He didn't really mean to call out to her, but he found himself abandoning his quest for protection, following her outside, and doing just that.

She turned around, her stance rather shaky, and regarded him… well, it was probably meant to be _coolly_, but she didn't appear to have the strength to put any particular look in her eyes. Except misery, which was just there. She was nicely dressed as always, and there wasn't actually a hair out of place, yet she looked pale and tired and… like _shit_.

"Hello, Brian." She nodded slightly, added, "Excuse me," and proceeded to walk away. Dropping her bag.

Brian strode quickly towards her and bent down to pick up the bulky wisp of plastic, smiling as he heard her quiet cursing. He peeked inside, saw a bottle of that god-awful pink stuff and one of aspirin, and stood back up, getting a better look at her this time. His expression changed to one of concern as he handed over her purchases. She was clutching her stomach and didn't look like she could manage to stay upright, never mind hold anything.

"Where's your car? I know I'm not your favorite person, but c'mon. I'll walk you."

"Not necessary… Brian… I'm fine…"

She then proceeded to fucking throw up on his fucking Prada shoes.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

***

After Mother Taylor… no, _Jennifer_ did this post-vomit swoon thing that was a little too close to passing out for Brian's comfort, he managed to sort of gently shove her into the 'Vette. She mumbled something about kidnapping, but her feet were moving, which was a good thing, because Brian couldn't quite bring himself to pick her up as long as she was still conscious.

He opened his bottle of water and made her sip it. Then obviously gave it to her, because _vomit_.

He felt her forehead, like he would with Gus, and managed to determine a fever before she barely managed to swat his hand away.

Thinking of his son made him think to ask if Molly was okay, and thankfully she was away at summer camp.

He got her to admit that she'd been puking her guts up all morning, although she said it in a much more country club fashion. And that she had chills and a headache and felt like she was dying.

He doubted that last part was the case, but he drove her to the hospital just a little faster than the law allowed.

***

Once they'd taken her back to be examined, Brian figured this woman really did not need him anymore… _the Taylors never do, for long_… so he left. He'd just stepped out into the sun when his cell phone rang. He realized he had forgotten to call in to the office.

Fuck it. He was a partner. He'd get back when he fucking felt like it. And Cynthia or Vance or whoever it was could just…

The ID said _Justin_.

Brian took a deep breath and answered. "Hey."

"_Hey?! _Brian, Allegheny just called me and said my mother's in the hospital and _you _brought her in? What the fuck is going on?"

"Calm down, Sun-" Brian coughed to cover up that he'd almost used that name. "Look, I ran into her, she wasn't doing too well…" He cast his eyes down to stare, defeated, at the fucking Nikes he kept in his car for working out. Which he was now ridiculously wearing with a designer suit because his Pradas were garbage. "I took her to get checked out. That's it."

"They said they were running tests…"

"I only brought her to the hospital because I was there, and because she's a classy lady who shouldn't have to endure the humiliation of a lot of public vomiting. I'm sure it's just a 24-hour bug."

"Brian, I know you pride yourself on no bullshit, but… you wouldn't bullshit me about this, right? She's okay?"

"She looks like a dishrag, but yeah, she'll be okay."

"…Thank you."

Brian nodded, which of course does no good over the phone. But Justin knew him well enough… still… to see it, anyway.

"I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

"How in the hell?"

"I was already driving when I called."

"Fuck, Justin, stop talking on your phone and driving at the same time before you fucking end up here for the wrong reason!"

"Are you going to be there?" Justin's tone was… surprisingly hopeful.

Brian ignored the question. Hung up, even.

But he made a new call, to his office. And he stayed.

***

Justin ran up, paused when he got within a couple of feet of Brian, then sat in the empty plastic chair one space over from his.

"Anything?"

"Nah. I doubt they would've told _me _anything, anyway."

Justin's hair was kind of windblown from rushing. That fucking blond hair that had gotten all long that Brian just wanted to grab every time he saw Justin and…

"You could have pretended to be her son."

Brian almost laughed, then his face screwed up kind of bitterly. "Better that than…"

Justin tilted his head curiously at Brian's mumbling. "What?"

"At first… they fucking thought I was her husband."

Justin's mouth twitched with a barely suppressed grin at Brian's horror. "Pardon me if I'm not insulted on your behalf. But I know that must have been tough for you… Pops." Then he let the laughter burst forth.

"Fuck you, too, Sonny Boy."

The reason for using that endearment at that moment made sarcastic sense, but it sobered Justin and made his chest ache a little. "Brian, were you going to call me?"

"Call you about what?"

"My mom."

"The hospital called you."

"I know. But would _you _have-…… Never mind."

Brian was the one who'd given the nurse Justin's number and told her to call, not Jennifer, but he wouldn't tell him that.

"So, where's Itzhak?"

"_Ethan_ is in class. I came over here so fast… Shit, I should call him."

"Yeah, he'll be wondering where you are. You don't want him riding home in that horse-drawn carriage all by himself without an explanation."

Justin started to say something bitchy back, because he really didn't need the little Ethan digs right now, but he got distracted by… Brian's feet. Sneaker-clad.

"Okay, what's with the shoes?"

Brian looked embarrassed for the briefest flash, then looked right at Justin and raised an eyebrow. "I had a different pair on before, but… your mother didn't care for them."

It took Justin a second. "…Oh my God." But then his smile quite literally could not fit his face.

It made Brian's chest ache more than a little.

He thanked God or whoever the fuck that a man in a lab coat walked up to them at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Fleming. Are you Justin?"

"Yes, I am." Justin accepted the extended hand and shook it.

"And how are you feeling? Have you been experiencing any fever, vomiting, diar-"

"Wait, what? Why are you asking me questions instead of telling me how my mother's doing?? She's the one who's sick!"

Fuck, he always looked hot when he was pissed.

Dr. Fleming gave a small, understanding smile. "Because I promised her I would. It seems your mother is suffering from food poisoning and she was worried that you might be similarly afflicted."

"Food poisoning? Can't people… die from that?"

Justin looked really freaked out and Brian had to concentrate on not letting his hand drift up to touch the tense back next to him.

"In very serious cases, but your mother is not one of those. Her illness is moderate at most and her immune system is strong. We're giving her IV fluids right now to help with the dehydration, but she should be able to go home today. Symptoms will probably persist for another day or two, and she'll need to pretty much stay on bed rest for a few more days after that, but she should be just fine."

Justin slowly let out a relieved breath. "I still don't get why you were asking about me."

"Going over with your mother what she'd eaten recently, we determined the most likely culprit to be some type of…" The doctor checked his clipboard. "…egg dish you both had for dinner last night at her house. And also your boyfriend?" He looked at Brian expectantly, as if waiting for symptoms to appear.

Brian looked from Dr. Fleming to Justin and quickly took a step back. "It's not me. I'm not… his boyfriend." His voice strangled slightly on the last word.

Justin swallowed hurt that shouldn't have still been there at just how fast Brian dispelled that assumption. "No, he's not."

"Oh," the doctor fumbled. "I'm sorry, I-"

"My boyfriend, Ethan, did cook dinner for the three of us last night. This _Confetti Omelet Casserole _he likes to make."

"Confetti? Sounds more like something Emmett would make."

Justin ignored Brian, although he was speaking as much to him as to the doctor. "It's one of only a couple of things he knows how to make. It's cheap, and he wanted to show my mom how we _'eat like kings on a pauper's budget.'_"

Brian rolled his eyes. Poor and pretentious. What a douche.

"Undercooked egg could be the cause."

"But he and I are both fine-" Justin stopped suddenly and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He saw the symbol indicating that he'd missed a call. From Ethan. "Wait…" He hurriedly checked his voice mail. One new message.

"_I had to leave class… ugh I feel so sick… Baby, come home, please, I need you."_

Brian, against his will, had heard the message, and for the first time that day, _he _was feeling the urge to vomit.

"Shit, I take that back. Ethan's sick, too."

"Well, there we have it. You're sure you're feeling all right?" Dr. Fleming asked again.

"I'm fine," Justin shrugged, looking sheepish. "Guess I'm just lucky I eat like a bird."

Brian had to put a fist to his mouth to keep a loud guffaw from escaping at that hilariously bullshit statement. Justin ate like a fucking bear just woken up after hibernating all winter. Except all year round.

Meanwhile, Dr. Fleming was offering Justin some literature to take home about how to care for food poisoning patients. Then he was leading him towards his mother's room, and Brian realized Justin was gesturing for him to follow.

"C'mon. I bet she'll want to see you."

"Ah, I don't think your mom's ever wanted to see me."

That silenced Justin for a second, and before he could think of something to say, Brian's phone rang.

Brian held up the phone. Said, "Later."

Justin said, "Later."

As Brian walked away, phone to his ear, Justin heard, "Vance, like I told Cynthia, I had a family emergency."

***

"This is a surprise."

Brian hadn't expected Justin to call again. They'd spoken more in the last twelve hours than in the _months_ since…

"I just wanted to say thanks… again, for what you did for my mom. You didn't have to. Especially now."

Brian wanted to say, _You think I'd let your mom collapse in the fucking street because you don't want me anymore?_ But he didn't. "Don't worry about it."

"She wants to buy you new shoes. But I don't think she realizes how much they-"

"_Don't worry about it._"

"And she wanted to me to tell you she said thank you, too."

"Christ, I am sufficiently thanked. You can both shut up now."

"Right. I guess I should go then."

About ten seconds of silence and not hanging up passed before Brian jumped in.

"It really was lucky, huh? That you never eat very much. So you didn't get sick."

"Oh… yeah."

"Justin, 'fess up."

"…Okay, I didn't eat it. At all. I grabbed a burger before we went to my mom's. And what I had on my plate I just kind of picked apart and mimed eating and then threw away when he got up to get more wine."

"And why would you do such a shameful thing?"

"It's called _'Confetti' _because it's full of pimiento."

"You hate pimiento."

"I know."

"So why don't you tell Ian?"

"I don't know. I tried to just pick it out the first few times he made it, but it's not really very good even without it. It's kind of runny and… Stop laughing!"

"I can't fucking help it, Sunshine." This time he let himself say it, and it felt good.

"He'll figure it out, I guess, once he stops throwing up. But now I feel bad because I feel like I let my mother get poisoned."

"Stop it," Brian breathed, body shaking with laughter. "You're killing me."

"Asshole," Justin said… but it sounded borderline _fond_.

"That's me… So, who's taking care of your mom while you're looking after Jascha _Heave_-etz over there?"

Justin groaned at Brian's very bad joke. "Debbie. She called, worried. My mom was supposed to meet her for lunch today."

"I wondered what your mother was doing at the Liberty Pharmacy. Fuck, God help her. I don't think Debbie's capable of _not _feeding somebody."

Justin laughed in agreement, then suddenly quieted. "Hang on a second," he whispered. "…Oh. I really should go. Ethan was asleep but he just got up."

"Better go hold his hair back."

"Brian," Justin admonished, half-heartedly. "He's really miserable."

"I bet. Good thing he somehow psychically knew it was food poisoning and not something contagious he could give _you _when he begged you to come home and tend to him."

Justin got the point. Didn't acknowledge it. But he did acknowledge… "I liked talking to you today."

Brian blinked, those words unexpected. Nodded.

Justin could still see it. And he smiled. "Family emergency, hmm?"

"Yeah," Brian said seconds later, to the dial tone. "It was."


End file.
